


The Elevator (Jungkook x IU)

by Insfiringyou



Series: Headcanon Masterlist [1]
Category: IU (Musician), K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/M, Sex, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insfiringyou/pseuds/Insfiringyou
Summary: This is the first fic so far in our headcanon masterlistJungkook’s well-known crush on IU was the cause for much teasing among her friends and family. Now, he is trapped in a lift with her and refusing to meet her gaze…





	The Elevator (Jungkook x IU)

**PART ONE**

Ji-eun watched him from the corner of her eye as he looked down at his shoes. He was standing against the adjacent metal wall, almost motionless with his hands tucked neatly behind his back. He hadn’t looked at her for the last ten minutes and she felt her frustration rise once again. Jungkook had entered the elevator about an hour ago, approximately twenty seconds after she, herself, had walked into the metal box. He had looked at her briefly, his eyes wide, before dropping them down to his simple blue sneakers and swiftly turning around to face the closing silver doors. She had recognised him straight away; how could she not? It wasn’t enough that he was a member of one of the biggest boybands in the country, if not the world, but she had also been hearing rumours about him steadily for the past year: rumours which involved her. He had become quite the topic of conversation at parties and family gatherings. Even her distant aunt had questioned her once about “the nice young man from BTS who was so madly smitten by her.” She did her best to ignore the talk surrounding him. He had crossed her path on more than one occasion; at award ceremonies she would note his presence and try not to smirk as he realised she was close by and on several instances he had gone out of his way to walk to the other side of the room. The others were more civil to her; Namjoon and Yoongi had introduced themselves and praised her music, listening with interest as she explained the concept of her most recent album. All the while, the youngest of them would shy away into a corner, avoiding her gaze at all costs.

And then there were the cameras. The first time it had happened, when she had been accepting an award and the camera cut away from her face to the wide eyed young man, she passed it off as a coincidence. She had watched the clip back with her boyfriend and tried not to blush as the camera quickly switched back to her. However, in the past six months it had started to happen more and more frequently and, on one memorable occasion, her boyfriend had asked her if there really was anything going on between her and Jungkook. That one had shocked her. Not only had she never exchanged as much as a single word with the younger idol, she had actually started to avoid him whenever they happened to be sharing the same space. And now he was trapped in the elevator with her.

Once the doors had closed behind him she waited for him to speak but it quickly became apparent that he was quite content to face the doors for the remainder of the trip down the multi-story apartment building. She sighed. “What floor?” That got him facing her.

“Huh?” He asked, looking a little like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“Which floor would you like to go to?” She repeated, already feeling her patience wearing out. She hoped he wouldn’t be following her down to the basement car park.

“Oh.” He seemed to relax a bit, realising what she was asking. He pressed his back against the adjacent wall and motioned to the row of buttons next to her. “Floor 3.” She nodded, pressing the button. “Thank you…” He finished quickly, dropping his gaze to the slightly reflective floor. The round button glowed red before going dark, and that was where her troubles really began. The elevator seemed to jolt upwards momentarily, before stopping its decent altogether. She frowned, turning towards the row of buttons on the wall and began to press them at random. They all remained blank. Feeling herself begin to panic, she turned to face the other man in the elevator but found him remaining in his stony position, his pupils still transfixed to the floor as though they were stuck by the world’s strongest super-glue. She turned back and tried the buttons once more, pressing them more frantically as her pulse began to race. As a last resort, she pressed the large red button at the bottom labelled “HELP”. Nothing happened: no alarms sounded, no automated voice called out, no actual voice called out. She turned back to Jungkook, flummoxed.

“Nothing’s working…” She called out, watching him with frustration as he met her gaze across the small space.

“I know.” He muttered quietly, his gaze briefly resting on the row of buttons.

“Well…why don’t you do something?” She cried, feeling her blood pressure rising with every passing moment. His eyes connected with hers once more and he stood up straight and she felt hopeful for a moment as he moved his arms in front of his body, considering what to do next. Her optimism was slashed fairly promptly, however, when he paused in his tracks and mumbled “What should I do?” She sighed, reaching into her oversized dress pocket and pulling out her sleek mobile phone. “Maybe phone somebody for a start…” She switched on the screen and watched him do the same from the corner of her eye. A few seconds later they both frowned in unison.

“No signal…” She whispered, looking up at the other figure hopefully.

“Me too.” He sighed, pocketing his device.

“What do we do now?” She asked.

Not much, as it turned out. They had spent the majority of the last hour in silence. She had tried to make conversation on several occasions; asking him how the Asian leg of his tour was going, whether he thought the MAMA Awards were fixed unfairly, if he was feeling a bit warm. He had answered all of these questions almost exclusively with single word answers or shrugs, barely meeting her eyes as he did so. The conversation did reveal one useful titbit of information: that, like herself, Jungkook had been in the apartment block looking for a friend who turned out to not be at home. That meant that nobody knew they were there. She fairly quickly started to give up hope of maintaining a healthy chat and began to focus her attention on the possibility of being rescued before she had to resort to drinking her own urine or eating the other person occupying her space to stay alive. She checked the time on her phone; it had only been an hour and five minutes but it felt like an eternity, and still no signal. Her battery was on 76%, thank god for small favours.

She let out a long, slow, unapologetic sigh and noted that Jungkook’s eyes flitted to her as she did so. The temperature really had begun to heat up, and she could feel two uncomfortable patches of sweat beginning to spread under her covered arms.

“It’s hot…” She said, receiving only a nod in reply. “You don’t mind if I take this off do you?” She raised her hands to the tiny buttons of her pink cardigan and watched as Jungkook’s wide, brown eyes followed her small, thin fingers to the space below her collarbone.

“No.” He said, quietly. She noted the way his upper body seemed to freeze as she undid the buttons slowly, moving her hands down her stomach. He averted his gaze after the first button, his eyes flickering to the space opposite him where the dark silver ceiling met the metallic wall. She removed the cardigan from her bare arms and dropped it to the floor. She was wearing a sleeveless blue dress beneath; knee length and buttoned all the way up the centre.

“Are you warm too?” She asked, noticing the way his brow had begun to sheen a little with perspiration. He shook his head, refusing to look at her.

“Oh.” She felt a small pang of anger rise within her once more. Why wasn’t he looking at her? Surely she wasn’t that intimidating. After all, she was only a handful of years older than him and he had certainly surpassed her on the fame scale, if the recent news of his band’s success in America was anything to go by. She suddenly had an idea which, she hoped, would put her mind to rest once and for all. She turned to face him in the small space, observing the way his breath seemed to hitch in his throat as he sensed her small movement.

“So…” She began slowly, unaware what she was going to say exactly until the words had already escaped her mouth. “Is it true you like me?” That caught his attention. His entire body seemed to spasm as he automatically turned his head to the side to face her. “No.” He muttered quickly, his gaze quickly dropping from her to the floor as he turned his head back.

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say but she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. It wasn’t that she wanted him to like her exactly; after all, she had a boyfriend. But a part of her was hoping that him confessing his undying love for her would at least allow her to put a stop to it, once and for all. She paused for a moment, wondering what to say next. His posture remained unchanged, and this inspired her next move: “Do I make you nervous?” He didn’t bother to meet her eyes this time, instead opting for a brisk head shake and a look in her general direction. It told her all she needed to know about how she made him feel and she couldn’t help but smirk a little to herself. He was almost adorable really, beneath his frustratingly jumpy exterior. She found herself wondering if he was like this around all girls. As she stood there, feeling more and more hot by the moment in the enclosed space, her mind hesitantly turned to the matter of his virginity.

Unexpectedly prompted by this thought and the bead of sweat which had started to run down her throat, she sighed and pulled her hands to her chest and slowly undid the first two buttons of her dress, easing the fabric away from the tops of her breasts, revealing the pale blue lacy trim of her bra. She really was feeling uncomfortably hot, but the way Jungkook’s eyes flitted to her chest as she did so made her stomach jump a little. He quickly turned away, however, not wanting to be caught looking.

A few minutes passed in silence while she observed her phone: still no signal, and turned her gaze to the top of the elevator. When she looked back down, she noticed the change in Jungkook’s posture immediately. He was facing away from her slightly, standing with his legs crossed at the ankles and both hands positioned in front of him, a few inches from the centre of his blue jeans. Her eyes dropped instinctively down to the area which he was covering and observed a slightly-more-considerable-than-expected bulge below his hands. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, feeling herself growing surprisingly warm between her thighs, she opted for: “You don’t have to hide it you know.”

He darted his head around to face her like a small child getting caught eating a handful of birthday cake before the guests arrived at the party. “What?”

She smiled gently, allowing her brown eyes to move back to his crotch, more slowly this time, so he could follow her eye-line. “You don’t have to hide it from me.” She nodded towards his concealed erection before looking upwards to meet his gaze. Her first thought was that he was going to pass out as his cheeks began to stain the colour of a magnificent sunset, realising that she had seen him and that he had nowhere to run. Her second thought was that he might start crying as his mouth opened and closed like a goldfish in panic, trying to find the right words to apologise, or to explain himself. She felt sorry for him, but also felt a warm glow at having gotten a real reaction out of him. She couldn’t deny that he was attractive. She had seen him on stage, gyrating his hips as the girls in the audience screamed at him. She also knew, from dozens of different sources, that she was undoubtedly the object of his desire. Now, she could see so first hand; she was almost flattered. Unable to stop her teasing, she murmured: “Should I undo another?” and moved her hands to the next button down on her dress, between the valley of her breasts.

He turned away from her sharply, sucking in an audible stream of breath beneath his teeth as he looked up at the ceiling of the elevator, his eyes flickering from corner to corner. “Is this a joke?” He asked as she uncovered her small breasts, pulling the cotton of her dress away from the lacy cups of her bra. She followed his eyesight to the top of the small room and frowned a little before realising what he was instinctively looking for: cameras. She shook her head to herself.

“No.” She said, taking a step towards him. “Did anyone know you were coming here today?” She asked, despite the fact he had answered this question earlier.

“No.” He replied.

“Well then.” She finished with a shrug, reaching out to the young man’s elbow and slipping her hand gently against the inside crook of his sleeve. He turned around to face her, involuntarily looking down at her uncovered cleavage with a blush.

“Take off your pants.” She murmured, nodding her head towards his jeans.

“…What?” He asked, open mouthed. She sighed once more and reached out to the front of his jeans. She saw his Adam’s apple bob violently as he gulped, her hands working swiftly on undoing his buttons and zipper before he could protest. She slid down the waistband of his jeans a couple of inches to give her better access as she slipped her hand casually down the front of his black boxer shorts, pulling out his swollen member. He gasped as she wrapped her fingers around the centre of his cock, his eyes transfixed on himself, not quite believing what was happening. She gave him a light squeeze in response, moving her hand slowly towards the enlarged head, admiring the beads of pre-cum which had seeped out, making the pink tip glisten. She gave him a few long strokes, savouring the small whimpers which escaped his parted and moist lips. Sensing that he was not going to respond to her any more than that, she frowned.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” Ten minutes ago she would have scoffed at the idea of him kissing her, but something had changed. She supposed, afterwards, that it was quite simply curiosity which had gotten the better of her. After all, she was alone in an elevator in a dubious part of Seoul with one of the most desired people in Korea. She knew he liked her; she had the proof evident in her hand. What harm would it do to take this a little further? The worst that could happen would be a disappointing experience. Best case scenario: it would cure him of his obsession with her if she demystified the experience for him.

He paused for a moment, as though, despite the evidence, he still suspected that this was all some sort of elaborate and sinister prank being played on him. She tugged him a little more roughly and he finally bent down, capturing her lips with his. His kiss was surprisingly passionate; he moved his hands to her lower back as he pushed closer, his hard cock pressing against her body as she continued to rub him. With her other hand, she interlocked her fingers with his, guiding his hand from her back to her right breast and squeezing gently, encouraging him to do the same. He complied, pressing his fingers tenderly against her soft flesh as she opened her mouth against his lips, brushing her tongue with his. Smiling against him, she gave his cock another squeeze just to delight in the way he moaned into her open mouth, his desire obvious and fierce.

She pulled away slowly, watching his face carefully as his brow furrowed at the loss of contact. Feeling brave, she moved her hands upwards to his shoulders and pushed downwards. He complied with her action, dropping to the floor and leaning his back against the metal wall of the elevator. He gazed up at her dreamily as she reached down beneath her cotton dress, hitching the fabric up her thighs with her wrists and tucking the sides into the large pockets as she pulled down her blue lacy panties, discarding them on the floor. Her pussy was slick with anticipation and she reached forward to speed up her excitement with a few quick strokes to her swollen clit. He watched this from below with dazed eyes, his cock standing defiantly above the waistband of his jeans and underwear as she straddled his thighs, lowering herself down slowly onto his member, sinking in with a gasp.

He didn’t know where to look as she adjusted herself on him, moving her hips backwards slightly to get a better angle. His eyes darted from the small mound of hair on her cunt, visible just below her hitched up dress, to her covered breasts, to her face. She reached forward to her cleavage and undid the front clasp of her bra, allowing the cups to fall from her breasts and free her nipples. This brought his focus back to her chest immediately as she once again moved his hands to her gentle curves. As he began to massage her gently, she wasted no time in buckling her hips and grinding her pussy against him, bouncing up and down on his cock as he threw his head back against the wall, his mouth open in an almost-silent moan. She allowed herself to be vocal as she sped up, letting out quick noises in her throat as he hit her most sensitive spot. The position she was in allowed her clit to brush against his pubic bone and she took full advantage of his complicity, grating herself harder against his groin as she fucked him. She didn’t know if it was the novelty of the situation or the fact that she hadn’t been so wet in a long time, but she felt the surprising start of her orgasm swiftly and could tell from his scrunched up face that he was near too. She reached down as his hips started to buckle beneath her, hoping that she had timed it right, and started to frantically rub herself with her index and middle finger as he spilled out into her. His eyes bolted shut as he came, and she let out a moan as she followed not seconds after, a part of her feeling relieved that she wouldn’t have to prolong the act any more than was necessary.

“Oh god…” He gasped as the last of his orgasm was milked from his swollen cock, his body half-collapsing against the wall as she rode out the last of her pleasure, her breath finally slowing down. She clutched his shoulders for a moment, steadying herself as she calmed down and his eyes fluttered open to look at her lazily.

“Is it true you like me?” She asked again, looking him straight in the eye.

“Yes.” He replied breathily, giving in. She nodded once, satisfied with his answer.

Slowly, she raised herself from him and his cock slid out of her easily, resting uselessly against his stomach as she stood up. He watched her as she turned around, the hem of her dress still hitched above her hips, tucked into her pockets, revealing her round arse. She bent down slowly, almost on purpose, to retrieve her panties. As she did so, she spread her legs slightly, and Jungkook’s half-closed eyes were drawn instinctively to her bare pussy, glistening with the remainder of his seed. He felt a little delirious as she glided her underwear back on and untucked her dress, smoothing down the fabric as she turned around and removed her mobile from her pocket.

“You’d better get dressed.” She said after a moment, looking down at him. “My phone has signal. I’ll call for help.”

**PART TWO**

The sense of urgency that usually overtook the residents of Seoul had vanished as temperatures reached new highs. The city and its residents had slowed down considerably to adapt to the hot weather. Not even Yoongi or Namjoon seemed to have the energy to pick up their pens and write, as they usually would have done. Instead, they all lazed in the living room, surrounded by the delicious smell of stir fry that still lingered in the air. Kim Seokjin’s portions were always plentiful, and the seven men had no option but to rest off their meals and the lethargy of the summer heat. Jin was the only one sat fully erect, his legs crossed as he stared up at the TV.

“What, again? We’ve played this one a hundred times,” whined Jungkook, sinking back into his beanbag with a groan. “Can’t we play something else?”

“But I like this level!”

“Because it’s the only one you’re good at,” Jungkook quipped. Regardless, he picked up the game controller to join Jin and Hoseok, opting for a sleek, black sports car. The sound of rumbling engines and screeching wheels filled the living room. It was spacious enough but made smaller by the two large sofas, several sunken beanbags, and a widescreen TV. With the addition of seven bodies and a 36-degree climate, it was definitely cozy.

“Aish, these gossip articles… seriously,” Taehyung complained. A light breeze from the fan beside them swept his hair back, revealing a deep and furrowed brow. Jimin, his own hair fluttering in the draught, rested his head on his band mate’s shoulder. Idly he gazed at the phone screen, his hooded eyes looking even more sleepy than usual. “They’re so dull. Idols are too careful these days.”

Namjoon’s lips were tight in a disapproving grimace. “How would you feel if they were about you, huh?”

“He’d probably like it,” said Yoongi.

“You’re looking at last week,” Jimin pointed out. “It was G-Dragon’s birthday last Wednesday, not today.”

Taehyung grunted, his lips parting slightly as he touched the screen with a long index finger. A screech cut through the silence as Hoseok’s yellow Lamborghini skidded hard to avoid a collision. Jin was winning, but his hold on 1st place was tentative as Jungkook came up fast behind him.

“Jungkook!” yelled Taehyung suddenly, startling the men around him.

The maknae however barely responded to his name, his eyes glazed over by the light of the TV. “Yeah?” replied the youngest in a half-listening sort of way, his mouth agape.

“What? What is it?” They urged as Tae paused to read the article. Collectively they held their breaths, suddenly nervous. Despite their careful lifestyle, they had been waiting for something - some scandal or rumour to break the streak of good luck they were having lately. But they had barely spent any time out of practice or their studios. 

“Your girlfriend is pregnant!” He snickered, a devious, delighted smile stretching across his lips.

That caught his attention, and he turned to stare uncomprehendingly at Taehyung.

“What?”

Jimin took the phone and began to read in a silky voice, a small smirk appearing on his lips too. “IU cancels TV appearance on KBS’ Hello Counsellor. She was seen running behind set at the show’s pre-recording and was too nauseous to continue…”

Namjoon frowned, though he looked slightly relieved. “It was probably the heat. The stage lights are really bright…”

“Concerned fans are quick to note IU’s weight gain over the past month, blaming her boyfriend of two years for her situation."Jimin continued. "Online critics speculate that her sickness is more than just pre-show nerves, with Netizens already predicting a delay on her newest album. With no ring on the finger, can we expect a surprise wedding from our National Goddess… Jungkook?”

The Ferrari was weaving dangerously as the maknae continued to stare in the wrong direction. Jin yelled as his own car was sent spinning off track and collided with a barrier in a shower of sparks and smoke, allowing the Lambo to take first place.

“Wow, yeah! I win!” Hoseok shouted loudly, utterly oblivious to the topic of conversation going on behind him. Jungkook’s gaze was fixed on Jimin in a look of pure fear as though he about to start rattling chains and upturning furniture.

Unsatisfied with the lack of reaction, Taehyung leaned forward, dislodging the man resting against him. “Hey, you there? Did you hear the news?” He asked, shaking his shoulder, making him rock easily back and forth. The dark, chocolate eyes grew wide for a second, as though he had only just understood the meaning. Jungkook distractedly batted off the hand on his shoulder as if it were a fly buzzing. He opened his mouth to speak, but only incomprehensible sounds came out, and his complexion grew suddenly pale. Taehyung pulled back, his distinctive brow creasing at the strange look on Jungkook’s face. He had hoped for a better reaction than this. It was weird, even for him. Without warning, Jungkook jumped up, the controller clattering noisily onto the hardwood floor. They all stared open-mouthed.

“Bathroom…” He muttered, and though it was an unconvincing excuse, nobody could argue that he did look like he was about to throw up. Several pairs of eyes followed him as he made his escape, sliding the screen door behind him and leaving the room in hushed silence.

“Why did you have to tell him that? You know he likes her,” Namjoon admonished, raising his voice. Jimin and Tae didn’t look embarrassed but exchanged a bemused smirk.

“Do you think…do you think he’s gone to cry?” Jimin asked uncertainly.

“I think I’m going to cry,” Jin whined, picking up the controller and shaking it, hearing a definite rattle from within. He muttered something that sounded like little brat and started to test the buttons.

Jimin pushed back the fringe of blond hair from his face. “It’s not like he’s ever really spoken to her, he can’t be that upset-”

Nobody turned to look as another member slipped unnoticed out of the room, closing the door silently behind himself. Yoongi’s bare feet made no noise as he moved swiftly across the hallway, his steps naturally lighter than his peers. There was only the soft jingle his too-large watch against the protruding bones of his wrist.

He was drawn automatically to the only source of light, a thin slither that seeped out from under the door of the bathroom. It flickered, changing as a shadow flitted from one side to the other.

Min Yoongi pressed his ear against the door and heard pacing inside. Bony knuckles raised, he knocked on the wood softly and the shadow paused.

“Jungkook, open the door.”

Even in a house of 7 men, there was no mistaking the slow, low tone of Min Yoongi.

“But I’m using the bathroom.” The dark figure replied.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, his fingers travelling down to the doorknob and turning it. Jungkook was inches away from his him. There was a sheen of perspiration along his forehead, a few strands of jet black hair clinging to his skin. The luminescent bulb only accentuated the lack of colour in his cheeks, and the contours of his face, making him look strangely old.

“With the door unlocked?” He said, eyes dancing with mirth. Embarrassed, Jungkook moved away, running his hands through his hair. Silently, Yoongi clicked the door shut and slid the latch across. There was an uncomfortable sort of silence, but Yoongi was patient and waited for Jungkook to break it.

“I…I think I got her pregnant.” he blurted out after a minute of silence. He sat down on the edge of the bath, and knuckles turning white with his grip on the sides of the tub.

Yoongi laughed slightly in surprise, a small smile of disbelief tugging at his lips.“IU?

Jungkook nodded slowly, eyes cast down fixedly at his socks. He really does look like he’s about to vomit, Yoongi thought. But he had trouble comprehending what the maknae was telling him. After all, the last time he had been close to IU had been at the MAMA awards, and even then he had fought hard against sitting beside her. Nevertheless, he contained his disbelief, sighing deeply and crossing his arms. It was sometimes easy to forget that Jungkook was now a man and aware of how these things worked.

"Okay. Why do you think that?” he said thoughtfully.

“Last week, ” Jungkook said, the words tumbling out of him now. “I was in an elevator and, ”

“Wait- ” interrupted Yoongi, a sudden thought coming into his mind. “You were stuck in an elevator. I remember. But you didn’t mention…”

Jungkook nodded, head between his hands.

“…with IU?”

His head moved slowly up and down again.

“Last Thursday, about 2pm.” Jungkook moaned, weakly, and Yoongi couldn’t help but grin at his innocence. He said it as though he didn’t even believe it himself, the colour flushing back into his cheeks as recalled what was ultimately the most erotic moment of his life. Yoongi didn’t ask for any more details, not curious in the slightest.

“Did you get her number?” He said calmly, knowing that his friend needed to be reassured.

“N-no. I didn’t think-”

“Here. You can call her on mine.” Yoongi slid out his phone from his jeans pocket. When he looked up, he saw Jungkook staring at him in awe. “You’re the only one who’s too afraid to talk to her JK. Although, I guess now you don’t really have an excuse to be shy with her.”

He half-smiled, taking the phone with a shaking hand. It took him a moment to gather himself, and Yoongi leaned back against the counter-top, pretending to be interested in the nearest bottle of shampoo.

“Hi,” Jungkook managed, leaning his body slightly away from the direction of his older hyung.

“Min Yoongi? Hello?” The clear voice responded on the other end.

“Ah, no, actually it’s Jungkook…”

“Oh.” Said IU. There was an uncomfortable pause. “How can I help you, Jungkook?”

“I was just wondering, is everything okay with you? I heard you were sick.”

“You wanted to know if I was sick?” She said, taken slightly aback by his concern. Lately her friends had been asking her strange questions, and she realized that this must be far from a coincidence. Was this Jungkook’s way of asking her if he’d knocked her up? She tucked her hair behind her ear, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips. Did he really believe she’d let him get her into trouble like that?

“Actually, I had a stomach bug… but now I’m better, thank you.” She said kindly, though there was a slight sharpness to her tone. “Was there anything else? I’m waiting for my friend right now.”

“Oh, I guess not. Congrats on your new album I hope you do well,” Jungkook said, his voice breaking with relief.

IU smiled through the phone. He really was quite sweet, she caught herself thinking. “Thank you. Well, I have to go now, but thanks for calling.”

“Yeah, no problem,” said Jungkook, his shoulders visibly sinking.

“ I have the coil.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear as the call disconnected, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the screen.

“So what did she say?”

Jungkook bit his lip, meeting Yoongi’s eyes in sincere bewilderment. “What’s…‘the coil’ ?”

Yoongi smirked. “It means you have nothing to worry about. Google it,” he said, and Jungkook slid, fully clothed, into the bathtub and yanked the shower curtain across with a sigh of relief.


End file.
